


Don't You Worry About A Thing

by Krasimer



Series: All Your Tragedies [8]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Because the man needs to be happy, Credence Barebone Deserves Better, Credence Barebone Gets a Hug, Credence Barebone Lives, Credence Barebone Needs a Hug, Credence does too, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Graves is living in England now, M/M, Modesty is mentioned, Original Percival Graves is a Softie, Percival Graves is proud of Credence, She's going to Hogwarts!, With Daniel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-16 01:20:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11818200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krasimer/pseuds/Krasimer
Summary: There was no response, but he felt them shift a little closer.Graves tilted his face into the warmth of the British sunlight, perched in the garden of Scamander’s home, and he sighed happily. “Which one is it, then?” he asked when there was still no answering voice. “Modesty?” he leaned back, his hands uncurling from his lap as he balanced his weight on them, pressing his palms into the warm ground. “Or Credence? If you’re looking for Newt, I believe he went into the woods to check on someone, one of his creatures.”Still no answer.“Daniel is inside, with a pot of tea the last I checked.”Something wrapped around his wrist and a voice bloomed inside his mind.He hurt you too.





	Don't You Worry About A Thing

Meditation, Graves had come to find, was something he enjoyed.

Scamander had told him about it, mentioned it briefly as something he’d heard about to help those who needed a few moments to themselves. To do nothing but sit and breathe, pushing thoughts away until he could just focus on the in and out, the push and pull of his own body working. It was active enough that Percival could remain out of the nightmares he had whenever he closed his eyes.

(The brief fight that had ensued when Grindelwald had come after him, the emptiness of a coma he’d been kept in for far too long.)

It was also quiet enough that he could simply let himself relax and breathe.

At the edge of his awareness, he could feel someone standing, waiting, and he pulled himself out of his quiet state and cleared his throat. Without opening his eyes, he addressed them. “Hello,” the word was soft and hard all at once, a warning to strangers and a welcoming to friends.

There was no response, but he felt them shift a little closer.

Graves tilted his face into the warmth of the British sunlight, perched in the garden of Scamander’s home, and he sighed happily. “Which one is it, then?” he asked when there was still no answering voice. “Modesty?” he leaned back, his hands uncurling from his lap as he balanced his weight on them, pressing his palms into the warm ground. “Or Credence? If you’re looking for Newt, I believe he went into the woods to check on someone, one of his creatures.”

Still no answer.

“Daniel is inside, with a pot of tea the last I checked.”

Something wrapped around his wrist and a voice bloomed inside his mind.

He hurt you too.

“He did,” Graves nodded, eyes still closed. “Credence, then. I was wondering when you would come and speak with me. I suspect he hurt me far less than he hurt you.”

Doesn't make it right.

“No, it doesn’t,” he agreed, almost cheerfully. “But we have people who care about us. We have people who want us to be happy when we can be. We have the Goldsteins’ and Kowalski and we have our dear host, mister Scamander. You have your little sister, even though she’ll be going to school soon. Her birthday is in a few months, yes?”

Yes. Don’t know what to do for it.

“Newt will likely help you figure it out,” Percival hummed thoughtfully for a second, then let himself lower to the ground, lying on his back in the middle of all the wildflowers Modesty had spent the last year and a half carefully pruning and letting grow mostly wild. He has asked the girl if it was allowed and she had giggled before nodding. “Modesty and you have both done so well in the last couple of years. I am glad that him hurting you hasn’t broken you.”

Did it break you?

“…If Daniel hadn’t come and found me again, I believe it would have.”

They sat in silence for a while, Percival’s mind drifting as Credence’s mental presence drew away again. The sunshine was warm and soothing, the scent of the flowers being picked up by the breeze and drifting around them.

After some time, Percival spoke up again. “I don’t know if I would have liked who I would become if I had continued on the way I was before I met Daniel. I mean,” he huffed, curling one arm under his head, the other free to allow Credence some way of contact to speak with him. “I was a miserable, overworked Security Head of MACUSA. The job was good but it was…Exhausting. When I met Daniel, it was like the world had righted itself and suddenly I was standing on two feet and carrying myself again. I hadn’t even noticed that anything had changed, that I was so unhappy, until I met him.”

He could feel Credence’s hesitation, then smiled when the younger man’s voice returned.

Is that how it feels to fall in love?

“It was for me,” Percival nodded, feeling the grass weave into his hair. “Daniel was just…Suddenly the answer to every question I had been asking myself. Someone to share things with and be happy with.”

You’re the only one I know.

“Only one?”

Like me. No one else is…Like you. Or me. Or Daniel.

“Oh?” Percival sat back up slowly, trying not to startle Credence. For someone who was still little more than a cloud of smog, he had a suddenly-heavy presence. “What do you mean?” he could feel Credence pause again, uncertain. “I’m not going to push you away, Credence. Things have happened to you beyond your control and nothing that you are makes you a monster. I mean,” he covered his eyes, groaning. “That might not be what you’re thinking, but I just-“

The feeling of a wisp of smoke around his arm again was the slight warning he got before Credence spoke again.

Would loving another man make me horrible?

“Do you think I’m horrible?”

No.

“Then why would you be?”

Because.

“Credence.”

Who it is. How it happened. Not sure if it’s love or gratitude or something worse.

“Do you want to tell me who it is?” Percival waited, finally opening his eyes. Credence’s edges were jittery, an unfocused image. He could tell that the younger man was nervous.

Newt.

“How could that be bad?” holding out a hand to approximate putting a hand on his shoulder, Percival smiled. “There are different types of love, Credence. Familial love, like what makes a scared young man gather up his frightened little sister and seek out a British wizard visiting the states in an attempt to get a better life for her. Even further back than that, familial love is what made you finally fight back against what was being done to you and yours.” He grinned. “Friendship is a type of love. It’s one I find myself grateful for when I have a bad night. Grateful that I have friends like Tina, Queenie, Jacob, even Newt. He’s ever so odd, but he’s good to have around.”

And you love Daniel.

Graves nodded. “I do. I can’t imagine life without him. Are you in love with Newt the same way I love Daniel?”

I don’t know.

“And that is okay,” Percival said quietly. “You have plenty of time to know. He might not love you back, he might, and that’s okay too. The American rules about this sort of thing are…” his upper lip twitched. “Unsuitable. Piquery doesn’t know what she’s doing with them, keeps trying to enforce a set of rules she hates, left over from a previous version of the system. And the muggles,” he paused, made a face, then laughed. “I’ve spent too much time around Newt. Anyway, the muggles are worse about it, but it’s no more a monstrosity than being able to conduct magic through yourself.”

He paused, another odd facial expression twisting his features. “With your upbringing, it should be mentioned that Missus Barebone was _wrong_ , however. Everything she said about you, people like you, us…All wrong.”

Which ones like us?

“Either group,” Percival nodded once, firm and steady. “Neither those who love their own gender nor those who have magic in them. Whatever she said about either group, she was wrong. Love is love, Credence. One of the most powerful forces in the world. If there isn’t obsession tied up in it, something that makes it perverted from what it should be, then it is the best thing. To love and be loved…How can there be anything wrong with that?”

He could feel Credence considering it, the boy’s presence heavy and churning as he turned Percival’s words over. It was a mark of how different he was now than from before that the ragged edges of him, smoke and darkness, didn’t go flaring out with his unsteady emotional state.

Modesty had been learning control of her magic, how to use it and keep herself safe with him.

Credence had been learning the same.

Percival smiled, then decided to voice the thought in his head. “You know,” he started slowly. “I could not be prouder of the two of you, not even if I were your father. You’ve recovered so well, learned how to control what scares you about yourselves. Modesty is going to _Hogwarts_ ,” he laughed, just a little. It still felt out of place, like he might wake up at any time and find himself back in his own personal hell. “And you! You, Credence, have learned to control yourself in a way that is quite frankly astounding. What you are, who you are…Just because you are dangerous does not mean you are a danger to those around you and you have _proven that._ ”

He could almost feel Credence preening under his words, far removed from the scared young man he had been.

“Obscurials don’t live too long, usually.” Percival sighed. “I’ve learned that from Mister Scamander. You have defied those odds. You held on for your sister. Then, when the time came, you held on for the hope that Scamander brought with him, didn’t you?”

Yes.

“Credence, you have done so well. I truly am proud of you,” Percival turned at the approaching footsteps, smiling when he saw Daniel. The other man handed him a heavy mug of tea, smiling at him before he sat down next to him. “It might not mean so much to hear that from me, but I can guarantee that the others are proud of you as well.”

It means more than you would think, Mister Graves.

“Are you doin’ alright?” Daniel spoke up, his voice quiet. He was still sometimes surprised by Credence, by the creatures Newt had, by everything in the British wizarding world, but he was adapting marvelously. “Credence? Do you need me to bring you anything?”

One of the smoky tendrils stretched out to Daniel, wrapping carefully around his pinkie. Credence was still attached to Percival as well, so he heard the young man’s response.

No, thank you.

A hesitating pause.

Thank you both so much.

“You’re welcome,” Percival took a sip of his tea, leaning into Daniel’s side. “I am just glad I’m still here to help.”

I am too.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, did you miss me?
> 
> I kind of missed writing these guys. I forgot how much I loved writing them. Daniel and Percival especially.


End file.
